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2012-07-27 Made You Look
That soothing, computerized female voice intones, "Attention. Union Station is now entering Rush Hour. For everyone's benefit and safety, we would like to remind everyone of a few simple travel tips--" KSSHT! "Hey! Hey! Hey! It's your ol' pal, Uncle Oswald! And boy do I have some fuuuuuuuun planned for today! That's right, boys and ghouls, we're going to have a killer time! Hahahahaha!" "So! Everyone just sit tight and stay tuned! Because Metropolis? The Joke's On YOU!" Union Station Panics. The people there are already starting to run and scream, only because they know exactly what kind of antics Oswald Loomis gets up to. They know that The Prankster can do pretty much anything at any time and... well, that's why they are trying their best to get the hell out of dodge. Unfortunately, though, it would seem that the doors and gates and turnstiles are all LOCKED UP nice and tight, which prevents anyone from going anywhere. Union Station Is On Lock Down. Y'know, to the people that aren't capable of making with the powers or gadgets or magic or whatever else they got. Security Guards are on the move, but it soon becomes very apparent that they are not Regulation Security Guards. They are Evil. No, seriously, it says Evil on their Badges. And they are focused on getting everyone to stay right where they are. Thanks to Taser Batons. Natasha Romanoff is in Metropolis today, handling some surveillance work. It happened to be taking place in Union Station. She's wearing a hat and trench coat with sunglasses over her Black Widow suit, and has been sitting on a bench reading a newspaper for about 4 hours now. The money drop she was spying on for a weapons transaction never happened. Maybe just as well if there is a lunatic on the premises. The interrupted announcement and ensuing chaos has her acting like a sea of calm in a storm. She carefully folds her newspaper and sets it beside her on the bench. She checks her watch, which gives her the movement to activate her bracers. Then she crosses one leg over the other and sits patiently, waiting. Soothing computerized voice? All Tommy can think of is the damn computer from the Nostromo. Mother, You Bitch! H can't help but chuckle to himself as he lights his cigarette... waiting for the next train. And then, wouldn't you know it... the shit hits the fan and Tommy Boy's in the wrong place at the wrong time. "I didn't realize I could cross my own path." He mutters under his breath, as he's suddenly nearly crushed by a throng of people trying to escape the station. "Son of a bitch!" He yowls, his cigarette ending up in some woman's hair as she crushes past him. Tommy trying his best to back out of the stampede. "Jesus Christ... it's like feeding time at the zoo." Tommy quickly ducks down though when the 'EVIL' Security Guards turn up. Pfft... like they arn't evil even before the taser batons are whipped out. Alan Scott is in Metropolis on business: a not unusual occurrence. And while he can afford to charter a helicopter or use limos, he sometimes doesn't bother when he wants to hear what people are saying. The things the public talk about influences his business decisions so he's sitting on a bench, shamelessly eavesdropping and taking notes on a laptop. When some lunatic takes over the comsystem, he looks around for his security but he sent them off to get food and they must be locked out. Bags packed and waiting to take the train from Metropolis to Gotham, Lois is sitting on a bench, back to back with Alan with her left arm in a sling, right hand on her phone. She's idling scrolling through her email as the announcement goes out. So, the reporter looks about is startled confusion and surprise. "What on Earth," she murmurs as she looks up at the PA System, because it will yield the answers she seeks. Meanwhile...Marissa was about to head back to New York. Not about to happen. Fortunately, she's close to the ladies room when all of this starts to go down...she ducks inside quickly, with the small duffel she's carrying. Hopefully before anyone really notices her in the burgeoning chaos. She's wishing Supergirl, or Wonder Girl, or ANY of the Titans was anywhere around. It's really just her luck to get caught up in a terrorist and/or supervillain attack with no backup...but she has to do what she can anyway. Somehow. She doesn't know whether to hope other hero types are locked in with her or not. Evil Security makes it a point to lock off any and all exits. Strangely enough, they are not saying anything. It's almost as if they can't speak. Pay no attention to the slight metal glint that may come from them at random moments of movement. It's got to be their badges. Really. But it's not like they are really any threat. There's only six of them. With taser batons. Lame. "Okay, kids! Here's the rules! Uncle Oswald has total control of every train in the station. I've also got control of the tracks. And wouldn't you know it? I loooooove bumper cars! But there's not a lot of room to play bumper cars. So we're going to make some room!" The lunatic's laughter is certifiable on its own. "But it wouldn't be fun if I just smashed 'em all together and killed everyone! So we're going to play Hide & Seek! I've hidden six key cards all over the station! Find them, use them and you just may secure your way outta' here! You don't? Well, Metropolis Janitorial is going to have one huge mess to clean up!" The cameras in the station all start whirring and zooming in on people. "Uncle Oswald can see everything! So I'll let you know when you're Hotter or Colder! Oh, by the way, did I mention there's a bomb? It goes off in twenty minutes. Happy Hunting!" Natasha toggles her S.H.I.E.L.D. comm, hoping it's still active and not being jammed. "I need bomb crews and some IR scanning at Union Station in Metropolis. If Fury has anything that can stop a bunch of trains from colliding, that would be good too." The spy rises and pulls out a cell phone. It's not really just a cell though. She taps the screen and pulls up an app which is a simple RFID scanner, looking for the sort of signal security key cards give out. She was going to use it to clone the credit cards, phones, and ids of the weapons dealer, but it might be useful here. "Jesus Christ.... I'm gonna learn to just stay in bed." Tommy mutters under his breath... hoping that there's some actual hero types. Or at least some people with some brains running around here. And not just the useless throngs of humanity. Tommy doesn't shift forms yet... he'd kinda not like to do that out infront of everyone. But he's listening closely to the rules of the game. "And I thought Jigsaw was a sadistic a-hole." Key cards? And they could be anywhere. So Tommy comes up with an idea. "How can we trust your game enough to play. Prove there's these 'Key Cards' around here. Or why sould we give you your entertainment!?" Tommy calls out, from where he's still hiding. "Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue." Alan murmurs to himself then actually grins and laughs softly to himself. Right, all better now. Reaction later, solution now. Climbing up onto his bench, he starts shouting. "OKAY PEOPLE. SHUT UP." He doesn't expect them to but some might listen. "People by benches, look under them. People by garbage pails, dump them and go through the trash. People by lockers, check to see if any are unlocked!" If the cards are in locked ones, they're screwed. Anyone who happens to start listening and looks to him will get specific instructions. Bombs. In a train station. Lovely. She's nervous, to be sure, but with a busted arm, what can she really do? Lois looks up at Alan starts barking orders. "Mr. Scott," she asks aloud, still sitting, before she looks under her bench, scans around, then looks up at him and sets her legs OVER her luggage. (Durn looters!) "My bench is clear," she calls out, cause that's all she's got. Okay. First things first...Mend tugs on her mask as she ducks out of the stall. Then she searches the ladies' restroom. After all, it's where she is. She does so as quickly as she can whilst still being thorough. Under seats. In the towel dispenser. Hopefully somebody out there will have the idea to check the men's, as she'd rather not go in there unless it's an actual emergency. A bomb in twenty minutes AND he's going to crash all the trains? Could be bluffing. Terrorists do bluff sometimes, but she has a feeling this guy's just crazy. High Tech Cell Phone RFID Scanners... WORK. It's really quite simple, to be honest. Ping! Ping! Ping! Pingpingpingpingpingping! Except, that there's way more than six key cards popping up on the phone. Could have something to do with the fact that with this being Rush Hour and there being so many people with so many jobs that require key cards, well, it's almost like a needle in a haystack. Better find a way to narrow it down. "Well! Someone's decided to have a chat with Uncle Oswald! If you'd rather spend your time asking questions, that's fine! The clock will continue to tick! And then BOOM!" Laughing is always a good way to break the ice. "Buuuuuuut. If you ask nicely, maybe I'll hit you with a clue by FOUR! Hahahahaha!" Wait. Is that a clue? It couldn't possibly have anything to do with being on Track 4, right? "Now that's what I like to see! Leadership!" Prankster is likely having a ball watching these going ons from the safety of wherever he is. "New Game Everyone! Follow The Leader!" It's no fun if he can't confuse the hell out of everyone. Too many games at once. Or just enough. "Is he the Key or the Locksmith? The world may never know!" Lois gets the luxury of her bench being keycard and bomb free. But if she's observant enough, she may able to catch sight of the soft clanking of the Evil Security Guard that's stomping by and making sure to be in everyone's way while they are panicking and searching for the keycards. Why is he wearing a chain around his neck? Mend has no luck with the bathrooms. Nothing in there. Except for more people freaking and hiding out. The good news, though, is there's a big ol' sign pointing in the direction of the Control Booth up here. That's useful, isn't it? Natasha grimaces and moves over to where Alan is shouting directives. She surreptitiously flashes him a S.H.I.E.L.D. ID and whispers to him. "Agent Nancy Rushman. If you can tell them all to go to one corner of the area, I have something that can find the cards," she offers, flashing the scanner to him, showing all the RFID blips. "Eat Me Uncle Oswald! Ya Fruit!" Tommy shouts from his hiding place, a hand popping up to flip the finger around to any cameras that might be watching. Yes, it's always good to taunt the terrorist madman. It's likely dumb luck, but Tommy does in fact glance over to the sign for 'Track 4' when Oswald puts the emphasis on the Four. It really can't be that simple? Can it? Either way, he certainly can hunt easier if he shifts forms. "I'll check the tracks!" Tommy offers, dashing out from where he's hiding to head down there. As long as he doesn't get plastered by a train, things might be looking up. Alan turns and glances down at Lois. "Miss Lane." He refuses to ask 'What are you doing here?' or any other idiotic question people usually ask. "Thank you. One bench done." Innumerable benches to go. When Natasha comes over and flashes her badge, he leans down to listen the nods, taking her at her word. She's SHIELD. "OKAY, STOP. STOP! Hang on. Wait. We're going to try something new. Damn it, listen! If you're near someone panicing, try to calm them down! Everyone, move to the northwest corner. No, not that corner. NORTH. WEST. Northwest. That one over there!" He points and keeps pointing. "Over there. Please, we only have so much time but we will all get out of this! Now help each other move over there." Hit them over their damn heads if you need to. Keep the person next to you from panicking. Got it. Lois stands, and leans to a person near her. "Hey, it's alright. Stay calm. It'll be okay. Just move, over there, okay?" Then she turns to get her messenger bag. It's the only thing that's really important. The rest of her luggage is clothes. Let's not freak out also. Surely there's a super or something near by to help. Right? Messenger bag secured, Lois starts trying to help herd people, motiong with her one good arm. Bathrooms checked...and as the Titan comes out (no doubt attracting some attention, now she's in costume), she sees the sign. Control booth. Either he's in there, or he's sabotaged it. One or the other...and if he's sabotaged it? She might be able to fix it. Smoothly, quietly, she moves through the crowds towards the sign, with an occasional, "Stay calm. Look for the keys. Check your pockets, even." He might have hired a pickpocket to plant the keycard on somebody, after all. Control booth. That's her target, for now. Unless something changes. Watching out for Evil Security Guards too. Track 4. There's a box. A metal box. With six keyholes on it. Weird. It's labeled: Keycards. And it's just sitting in the middle of the track. In the distance, of course, there's the lights of a train. But there's no vibration. Or any horn. So it's not coming down the track. Yet. As the crowd does as they are told, which isn't really hard to do because they are freaking the freak out, but also just kind of wanting to not die, they all move to the Northwest Corner. Which causes all those blips to pile up on the phone's screen. Even against the Taser Baton wishes. Wonder why those security dron-- er, guards would try to stop them from piling up on each other. Weird. It is actually pretty easy to get to the Control Booth. It's just up a flight of stairs, around two corners and right there. Hell, the door is even cracked open. And there he is, Oswald Loomis: The Prankster. Sitting there, with his feet up and munching down on some popcorn as he watches all the screens with joy and amusement. "14 Minutes Left! Come on! You can do it!" He's loving this show and he's pretty sure Metropolis is loving it too! Since it is also bring broadcast LIVE! Look at the cell phone again. There's six separate blips lined up at the exit. Right where the Evil Security Guards are. Huh. Natasha watches the screen and when the pattern becomes clear, she looks over at the security guards, and their necklaces. "It's the guards. They have the keys," she says quietly to Alan. She stuffs her hands in her coat pockets and strolls as if to pass a guard, pulling one hand on to try and fry him with a Widow's Bite in passing, Just to see what happens. Once in the shadow of the the track, Tommy slips out of his coat and stuffs it somewhere he can recover it. In the middle of trying to strip out of his clothes, he notices the metal box. "Huh... that was easy." Of course, he's not thinking about 'Bootie Traps' or 'Booby Traps', if you're not the kid from Goonies. Tommy crouches down and tries to open the box, glancing down the track to the train that's just sitting there. "That's weird." Alan's brow furrows at what Natasha says and he looks over toward the guards, considering them. The SHIELD agent is obviously trying something so he waits to see what happens. Because while he does have a plan, people are likely to get hurt. Lois meanwhile is still trying to get people to move where Alan instructed earlier, lost to everything else going on until the voice redoubles things. Fourteen minutes left? The reporter gasps as the people near her grow more frantic. She has to back pedal away, right hand going to cover her bandaged left, not wanting to get bumped on the arm, because that would hurt a LOT. She's not even really paying close attention to where, exactly she is either. Okay...too easy. He's got to have protections. Mend crouches a little by the door, checking the entrance for booby traps, tripwires...if she does trigger something it will probably hurt, after all, and she doesn't recover THAT fast. Best to avoid doing so...and to hope he hasn't noticed her yet. "Oooooh! Good eye! But sorry, lady, my guys won't die!" Perhaps, whatever these guards are made of, it is not fryable. The one that's attacked does just kind of stand there, before it comes swinging that taser baton at her! It's big and slow, though. And when the stupid rent-a-cop hat falls off, it's obvious it's a robot. It wasn't even painted well! But again, it's big and slow so getting to the chain should be so easy. Heck the other five aren't even trying to help the other one. The Metal Box is not openable. And it seems like Oswald is growing impatient. Because his voice comes over the PA system again, "CAN'T YOU SEE THE KEYHOLES YOU IDIOT?! DUH!" Prankster is too busy yelling into the PA microphone to notice that someone is sneaking up on him. In fact, the only thing that's really noticeable in a big, huge, bag of marshmallows. Like, that's it. No booby traps. No trip wires. Nothing. Just: The Prankster and Marshmallows. What the hell? "You guys wanna' hurry it up? I don't wanna' get blown up by my own bomb, okay? Come on. Teamwork people! Teamwork!" And then he's off the PA system again, chuckling up a storm. Snickering even. This is too good. Wait. The optics of each Evil Security Guard fade and they freeze, before powering down. "DAMN BATTERIES!" Oh Prankster. The Black Widow dives under the baton, slipping out of hat, glasses, and trench in the same motion. Then she dives through the guard's legs , grabs hold of the chain with one fist, and kicks him in the back as hard as she can to try and snap it off him. "Yeah, but where's the bloody key?" Is it the key cards? Tommy pops his head up from the tracks and slides the box across the floor. "I found a box. I think it needs a key. I'm gonna check the train." Tommy vanishes again, running down the tracks towards the parked train. He says 'Screw It' at this point and just shifts forms, ripping his jeans and t-shirt. And of course, ruining a perfectly good pair of harness boots. Thankfully he's a nobody! At least he can run to the train faster in this form. Watching the SHIELD agent, Alan nods approvingly as she snags the keycard. One down, five to... Wait. Robots? Did they just shut down? Is it part of the game? Whichever the case, they - or rather, he - has to make sure before takig the chance of getting anyone else hurt. Jumping off his bench, he sprints over to one of the guards and tries to get the keycard from it the sme way Natasha did. Just with less acrobatics. Alright. Dude on the PA is just getting annoying. The Metropolis native, and nosy reporter's done a story here one or twice, and after a quick mental recall, the reporter jogs toward the main control room, not realizing the guards have stopped moving. Crowd control's never been her style away. Let the TV Personalities deal with... aw man! She's considering trying her hand at... Well, nothing ventured! Lois continues on toward the PA Box, wincing as she gets to the top of the stairs, right hand covering her left arm again. She's a bit dizzy from the pain meds she took an hour ago, but forces herself, stubbornly, to press on. Oh. Who's this by the door? "Umm.. you with the bomb squad or the bomber squad," she asks Mend. "He left his door open," Mend informs Lois. "Stay here a second," she adds, cheerfully, then waltzes into the control room. "Hello. I'm Mend. And I'm here to foil your nefarious plan." She's not stopping, though...her goal? To push him away from the controls, and get between him and them. Hopefully he'll...except if he runs, he'll run into Plucky Reporter. Who's a lot more fragile than Mend is...but who also probably has a decent right hook if pushed. Hooked to the chains are Keys taped to the actual ID cards for the guards that are probably tied up in a room somewhere around here. These keys look like they will fit the holes on the box. Should be simple enough. Right? The action is afoot in the PA Box! "What?! How did...?" The Prankster is shoved away from the controls and hisses. Really, he does that? What the hell? "Wait wait. I left the door unlocked, didn't I?" While he's dropping his head to pout, he hopes this is enough for him to SQUEEZE the ball in his palm and shoot out hot pepper spray silly string at Mend! "The Joke's On You!" Cackling, the Prankster hops and runs for the door! He's about to make with the exit. The clock is still ticking down on the bomb! Which, well, could be anywhere. Or on the train. That is suddenly starting to move towards the only cat on the tracks. It's a slow move like the brake has just been turned off. The Widow snatches the remaining cards off the security guards and tosses them to Alan. "GO! Track Four! I'll get these doors open for the civilians!" she calls to him. Cat In Headlights! Tommy freezes for a moment and then snaps out of it. "Shit!" Yeah, foul language comes with the territory. Tommy quickly snaps out of it and quickly runs to the side of the train and makes his way on. Whether it's kicking out a window, or easy enough to just climb aboard. "Break, break, break." Tommy moves into the control room of the train and tries to figure things out. "Why is there never a 'Push Button To Stop Train' button." Tommy pushes and pulls whatever might look like the breaks, hoping to stop the train. Alan catches the keycard... except one which falls and he stoops to retrieve it. Ahem. Meant to do that. Taking the cards, he sprints over to Track 4 and the box that Tom has found. Right. 6 keycards, 6 slots. He starts putting them in and voila, box opens. He eyes the remote inside a moment then checks the time. Shit. No time to be overly cautious. Taking the remote, he presses the button and waits for the explosion. As Prankster charges for the door and toward Lois, the reporter shrieks! Not only does she shriek, but she jabs up at his nose with the heel of her right hand (Thank you, Sandra Bullock and Mr. Howard of Howard's Self Defense Class.) This she follows with a knee to his dingleberry bits to double him over and for good measure her left hand to the back of his head to put him out for the count. And then Lois staggers backwards in pain, cursing like a Private First Class two weeks out of basic, right hand clutching her casted left arm as little stars of 'owwie i want my mommy' dance in front of her eyes. Let's hope she doesn't get too close to those stairs. The Train Cannot Be Stopped. It is going and going and going. In fact, trying to stop the train may be making it go faster. Right to where the track meets all the people and everyone is in clear danger zone view!! Funny, though, there's nobody on the train. It's empty. No passengers. No nothing. Just... a lot of plastic. A lot of plastic bags. Huge plastic bags. All connected to... what the hell is that blinking light? Button? Pressed. And why the hell is that blinking light blinking faster... faster... faster... SOLID! Meanwhile, The Prankster is POW! WHUMP! WABAMMIED by Lois Lane and he double, triples over to fall right down onto the floor. He's pretty much out of it. There's just moaning, soprano style, as he barely can move. BOOM! The train explodes. Everybody dies. Actually, no. Nobody dies. The train's windows just explode from the over abundance of MARSHMALLOW CREAM that comes exploding out of the train! Poor Tom. Back up at the Prankster, well, he's just smiling as he hears the bomb go off and utters, "... nngh... made you look." Before falling out cold. The Joke's On Him. Mend semi-dodges the hot pepper silly string...at least, none ends up in her eyes. She walks over to the prankster and puts some in her mouth (She doesn't actually eat it...she knows better). "Mmm...I love hot pepper. Thank you." Then? She frees her hand from the silly string to offer Lois a high five. When there is no boom, Natasha, continues working, using anything in the area she can to get the doors open and the civvies out. And Tommy gets spat out the front window of the train, after smashing through the glass... with tons of delicious marshmallow cream following him.... sweeping him down the tracks. Eventually shifting back to his human form, so that nobody is the wiser... since they can't see him through all that cream. Poor Tom sitting up with a sputter, as he looks like he just had the final battle with Gozer the Gozarian. And announces... "I Need....A Goddamn..... CIGARETTE!" Alan half ducks at the muffled explosions but marshmallow creme was not what he was expecting. "I am totally going to kick that asshole's ass." he mutters and stands up. As someone struggles out of the creme, he walks over to offer a hand though while trying to stay out of the biggest drifts. Lois manages to catch her balance by using the railing. Shaky from pain, the reporter looks up at Mend, smiles weakly, and barely returns the high five. Her right hand returns to her arm. "Alright. That's all I wrote folks. I'm clocking out now. You handle the baddie," she says with a faint whimper. "Just, drop a name on me so I can print who dropped the guy that caused this mess?" Oh yeah. Mend's name... "Mend...but I had a bit of help." She grins. "Actually, I had almost as much help from *him* as anyone else." She glances down at the Prankster. World's least competent supervillain... "But thanks." Okay. Silly string. She needs to de silly string herself. Tommy glances up, taking the offered hand and accepting the help from Alan. "Thanks. I sorta lost my coat down the.... " He glances at it a large puddle of the marshmellow goo. "Dammit, you know how hard it is to get this stuff out of clothes." Tommy bends down, picking up his coat. Of course, he still looks like a walking marshmellow fluff man. "Cigs.... cigs." Tommy's actually digging through the pockets of his goo caked jacket. "Thanks." He again offers Alan. "You're welcome." When he has his hand back, Alan shakes it off to one side, trying to get the fluff off. He resists the urge to see if Tom will giggle if poked in the belly. "Well, could be worse. Let's go make sure everyone's all right." Pause. "Wait, you were alone in there right? Do we need to dig anyone out?" Name recieved, Lois nods to Mend and starts on her way down the stairs, taking them slowly and carefully. She grips the wall with her right arm, leaning on it heavily, while repeating important details to herself: "prankster, bombs, trains, silly string, mend, alan, prankster, bombd, trains...." Mend is determined...but she can't get all of the silly string off. Besides. She can't leave Prankster, in case he gets up. "Hey! Have the cops made it in here yet?" she yells at the top of her voice. Mental note. Carry handcuffs in future. Tommy follows Alan, leaving a trail of marshmallow plops behind him as he walks. He finally manges to lick his fingers off and free a cigarette, lighting up. So now there's a marshmellow man smoking a cigarette. "Huh? No... I didn't see anyone anyway. At least the rats will eat well for a while." Tommy's a bit nervous of that marshmellow continuing to drop off him. "I... uh... I should get lost. Places to go, laundrymats to see." He certainly doesn't want to hang around and answer questions. Especiially from nosy reporters. And cops. Hard to tell which is worse. "You should see a doctor too just to make sure you suffered no damage." Alan suggests as he looks over the scene of people running out of the station. Now where did Lois disappear to? And that SHIELD agent. There's Lois! She staggers from the stairway, right hand on her cast, cheeks a bit pale from pain. She's making her way toward that bench she was on before, still repeating to herself that mantra of facts. She tries to keep from running into the few people that are left now that the woMen in Black has gotten the doors open and the rest of the riffraff are running for it. The transit police hear Mend's call and take charge of the Prankster. She comes down the stairs, trying to look proud. "Was anyone actually badly hurt in this mess?" Not that she can help them...beyond making sure they get some EMTs in here. "Just my pride. I'm outta here." Tommy whips his head, tossing his hair... and sending spatters of marshmallow everywhere. "Peace." And he quickly beats cheeks, pushing past anyone who asks a statement or wants to question him. "Lick me." He grows at one person. Alan spots Lois and goes over to her, takign her elbow so he can help her over to the bench. "Are you all right? Were you caught in the blast?" Though she's fluff free so that seems unlikely. "Should I get one of the paramedics?" They should be arriving shortly. Leaning into Alan's help, Lois drops heavily to the bench. "Blast? Something blew up," asks the reporter. The train must have been wearing glasses. She looks around and spots the Stay Puft Man making an exit. "You're going to have to fill me in here," she mutters at Mr. Scott, right hand going for her messenger bag, rooting around it in for her notepad and pen. Must... jot.. notes... Guh! Arm hurts. The pain reads clearly in her gray-violet eyes and the unhappy frown to her lips. Mend moves through the crowd. "Okay. Anyone who is hurt...let's gather on the platform over here so the EMTs can find you easily." She's just a kid...but she IS in costume, which seems to have some effect on people's willingness to listen to her. "No, I don't think so Miss Lane. You're just going to sit there and wait for a paramedic to see you." Alan tells her. "Then we're going back to Gotham where my physician will treat you unless the paramedic says you need to go to the hospital." That is does, Mend. Especially in THIS town! She may not be in red, yellow, and blue, but with the calm assurance she carries, people start filtering as she directs. The EMTs make their way in and begin triage. Lois finds the pen first. She turns it on then stuffs it into the strap of the left side of her bra, point first, to begin hunting for her note pad. "No problem, Mr. Scott. Fill me in on what you did down here to help keep the bombs from going off while the superhero Mend took out the bad guy Prankster up on the control booth, and I'll be more than happy to stay put," Lois is saying, stubbornly ignoring her throbbing arm. Must get story! Mend helps a woman with either a sprained or broken ankle over to where the EMTs are. "Okay." She's just glad he *wasn't* competent. Or powerful. He was easy to fight. "No." Alan tells Lois, smiling easily and quite aware she's probably not happy to be told that. And perhaps not used to it either. "Details can wait till tomorrow. We need a hand over here." he calls, raising his voice enough to carry. Lois sighs softly, pain making her close her eyes and stop her search. She has her pen. it's recording, so Lois forces her eyes open, pulls the pen out of her top, and turns her violet gaze to Alan. Clearly, Lois has the moxy to rarely if ever take no for an answer. "Details can't wait until tomorrow. Time tends to muddle them," she counters, draws a breath, struggles to focus on something like a real question, and fires at him, "I heard yours as the first voice calling out for people to start doing something. What was the thought that made you do that?" Right, so it's not the most coherent interview question she's ever asked, but she's got a broken arm over here. Mend has everyone as organized as they're going to be. She wanders over to Lois and Alan. She didn't hear Alan's voice, being first in the bathroom and then up in the control room. But he seems to have a certain air of calm to him. "That counts as a question, Miss Lane. And I am not answering any questions." Looking over at Mend when she comes over, Alan gives her a nod. "Can you get a paramedic please. She shouldn't move." Lois groans at the refusal, head hurting from the pain. Her shoulders droops as she takes a moment to try to find a way around this. Might as well start describing the scene, what of it she can see, and she starts into her pen, forced to stop now and again, close her eyes, before continuing. But, like a mostly good girl, Lois isn't moving from the bench. "Okay. Might take a few. There's a lot of injuries. Nothing major, though..." Mend vanishes back into the crowd, her ponytail staying visible for an extended moment. "Trampled by the crowd, no doubt." Alan notes disapprovingly. "For all the progress we've made, humans are not far from their more animalistic nature." Considering Lois a moment, he says "I should take a first aid course." "You should answer the damn question," Lois grumbles as she looks back up to Alan. Though her voice is tense and terse, there's no real bite to her tone. it's just pain making her sound so. She brings her right hand, still holding the pen, back to her casted arm. Mend searches out a paramedic. Lois does seem to be one of the ones at greater need...even if she wasn't the one who'd really taken out the Prankster. So...time for some Titans sweet talk. Category:Logs Category:Events